


The Lion and The Fox

by JayceCarter



Series: Kinktober 2018 [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Kinktober, Kinktober 2018, Masks, Mistaken Identity, Shameless Smut, Stranger Sex, Strangers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 04:20:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayceCarter/pseuds/JayceCarter
Summary: Nora and Arthur both take advantage of a masquerade ball to be different people; Too bad they end up running right into the people they already were.





	The Lion and The Fox

**Author's Note:**

> Kinktober Day 1: Masks
> 
> Yes, I am doing kinktober again! Like last time I will post them the night before. I have up to day 10 done already, so this year should be less frantic. This means all my WIPs are on hold until I am done writing kinktober, at which point I will again pick one piece to finish (since that's how my current system is going and working well for). So, after kinktober is all written, I'll pick something I have up to finish and then just keep going that way. <3

 

Nora smiled behind the fox mask she wore. John had found it for her when she’d threatened him that she wouldn’t show to some stupid masquerade ball.

“Told you this was a good idea.” John leaned against the door of his office, a cat mask covering his face. Not that Nora couldn’t hear the smirk in his voice.

“Do you really think with everything going on a big party is the right choice?”

“Why not? We’re closing in on the Institute. Your Brotherhood buddies will take care of them, and then we’re free.”

“So shouldn’t we celebrate after we win?”

“What if we die? Would hate to miss a party like this one, sunshine. Nah, we’ll have our fun first.”

Nora wanted to argue, but the music that spilled out of the open Third Rail Doors and into the statehouse had her wanting to dance already. How long had it been since she’d had a chance to just relax? To have fun, to not worry, to just enjoy herself?

John had invited damned near everyone as far as she could tell. Danse had already stopped in, Preston, Wiseman. All of Goodneighbor would be packed, which John had known, leading him to wire the music through the streets, as well.

“Well come on, Fox, let’s get you down to the party.” John slid an arm through hers before pulling her toward the fun he insisted she have.

#

Arthur groaned as he adjusted the lion mask Teagan had given him. He’d have just as well remained aboard the Prydwen, or at best perhaps a Brotherhood get together less informal and less crowded.

However, the Proctor was nothing if not determined, and he’d decided Arthur needed socialization, as if he were some pet in need of training and time outside the house. Despite the arguments, somehow Arthur had found himself on a vertibird, headed for the get-together the mayor of Goodneighbor had put together. At times he wondered who was truly Elder when Teagan pulled such stunts.

As far as he knew, only Paladin Danse would be attending the event at the request of their Knight Jacobs, the woman who rarely showed when he requested her and rolled her eyes when she did show.

They’d spoken little, a fact he chose to ignore given her general ability to deliver on her promises. She’d promised him the Institute, and thus far she’d managed to do everything she’d offered. She’d found the location, she’d built the transporter, she’d returned and stayed loyal even after discovering the Institute’s willingness to take her in. There was more to the story than she’d told him, he was sure, but he hadn’t pressed. The last thing he wanted was to drive her away, to talk her into siding with someone else.

For whatever reason, the entire Commonwealth appeared to hinge on this one young woman’s choices. He had to ensure the Brotherhood remained her choice.

It meant he’d given her much more leeway than he would have otherwise. He ignored the fact she wore that blue jumpsuit everywhere no matter Brotherhood regulations. She refused to use titles, refused to address any of his men with the respect their position was due.

Not that any seemed to care. Teagan drank with her from his understanding, and Quinlan would play chess into the late hours while talking about the past. Even Kells overlooked the blatant disregard for custom when Jacobs would take the scribes and play hide and seek with them through the hallways of the Prydwen. It seemed she was willing to warm up to his entire crew save for him. Anytime she was in the same room as him, she couldn’t leave fast enough.

Arthur chose to ignore it until after the Institute assault was over. At that point, they could deal with it.

The music of the bar was so deep, he could feel it through the floorboards and his boots. The jean material rubbed against his legs as he walked, and he fought the desire to pull at it and adjust. When was the last time he’d worn anything but Brotherhood jumpsuits? He never had a reason to.

However, Teagan would not even take that as an excuse, since in his quarters he found not only the lion mask but a pair of jeans, a button up shirt, and a pair of boots.

To anyone looking at him, he’d fit right into the sea of bodies crowded through the city.

Inside the bar, he struggled to identify people. Were any of these his men? Many of the initiates and knights had the evening off and would no doubt show at the event. The idea of having people he couldn’t recognize around him unnerved him.

Perhaps he should go.

Maybe this was all a mistake.

Just as he was about to turn and leave, content to suffer through another of Teagan’s lectures, the shifting of something black and shiny caught his attention.

On the stage, a woman in a mask that had no animal but many gems smiled, her red lips visible since the mask only covered her eyes. A red dress with a plunging neckline showed cleavage, but it was the natural confidence that drew every set of eyes in the room. “So I want to welcome up my good friend.” The woman crooked a finger to beckon someone else up. “Come on, Foxy.”

Another woman stepped onto the stage, the shimmering black dress that had drawn him before. It fell to just above her knee, but a slit up the side went to nearly her hip, showing glimpses of thigh as she moved beside the singer already on stage. A mask of a dog. . . no, a fox obscured her face. It cut off just over the nose, letting him see lips that shimmered. Not a color, not like the singer, but some sort of substance made them catch the light like a lure.

The woman smiled and leaned closer to speak into the microphone. “These people are here for fun, Magnolia. Why would you want to punish them?”

Magnolia was the singer? He’d heard the name, heard her music on the radio before, playing in the background as Ingram worked on power armor. It seemed she didn’t care who knew her identity. 

Magnolia set a hand on the other woman’s lower back and pulled her close, so close there was no question that the two were lovers. “I don’t mind punishing people now and then, sweetheart, but we both know how pretty you sound when I make you sing.”

The crowd went wild over the banter, but Arthur could only watch the woman in the fox mask. She seemed familiar, yet strange. Yes, a part of it was the way the material of her dress clung to her hips and her chest, but another part? It was something in that smile.

The woman wrapped her hand around Magnolia’s before the two broke into a song

The words melted into the melody, and Arthur heard little beyond the tone. Rough, whiskey-soaked as he’d heard it called before. Not the sweet, soft voice of a young woman, but something drenched in more years and more pain than he’d have expected in such a surrounding.

They sang together, the lyrics tantalizing and seductive, speaking of a woman who needed a lover. It sprang forth an image in his head of how quickly the thin straps of her dress would slide down over her shoulder, of how he wanted to do that, to reveal more inches of skin and hear that voice when-

Arthur shook his head and turned his back on the woman. He didn’t need to give himself over fantasies and imaginings.

He moved through the crowd who all watched the stage and the two women. It meant he easily caught the bartender's attention to order a beer.

On the house, the Mr. Handy said, compliments of Hancock.

Arthur nodded a thank you before once again braving the crowd to find a seat and a table. He supposed an hour or two would be enough to get Teagan off his back. He only needed to survive that long before he could retreat back to his own space and forget this entire disaster.

#

By the time Nora finished her set, sweat dripped down her neck and down the front of her dress. She and Magnolia walked off the stage and into the VIP room, though it wasn’t that private anymore. Bodies crammed into every inch of space, requiring the women to shoulder through the crowds.

“Oh, hun, you do sing like a bird.” Magnolia pulled her lips into a smile, that read teasing Nora as it always had.

The pain in Nora’s chest wouldn’t ease at that smile. “I’m going to go get a drink.”

Magnolia caught her wrist. “Wait. It’s a nice night, why don’t we have a little fun? Like old times?”

“Because it doesn’t mean anything to you.”

Magnolia slid her hand behind Nora’s neck, her fingers toying with the soft skin there. “It means something to me, beautiful. It always does.”

Nora leaned into the touch as much as she cursed herself for it. “Maybe it means something, but it doesn’t mean enough.”

“What do you want, hmm? Love? Is that it? Because that’s not the world anymore. Do you know what drew me to you that first day?”

“You said it was that I was a performer, like you.”

Magnolia pulled Nora closer until their stomachs brushed each other, the red of Magnolia’s dress against the black of Nora’s. “No, that wasn’t it. It was that sweet innocence in you. There’s not much of that anymore, all of us too jaded for it, but you looked at me, at this whole world like someone who still believed in the basic good, in something young and beautiful.”

“But it wasn’t enough, was it?” The words slid from Nora’s lips, heavy and sharp and accusatory. 

No. It hadn’t been enough. Not that she could blame Magnolia for that. The singer had been clear from the start that she was married to the stage, to the novelty of it all, to the room full of admirers. She was hooked on the praise, and nothing Nora could ever give her would change that.

But it still hurt.

When Nora had walked in to surprise Magnolia, a new gown in her hands, and found the woman leaving The Third Rail along with a trader in from Diamond City, Nora’s stomach had dropped.

She’d known better than to put herself out there, but what had it mattered?

“You don’t have to spend the night alone, love. Come back to my room with me, let me remind you that things between us aren’t all bad.”

Nora pulled away, the drawing of Magnolia’s hands from her skin like the opening of a wound. “It’s not all bad, but it’s not enough, either. Besides, I can find company elsewhere.”

“You aren’t the type for one night stands. Don’t try to fool a woman who fools people for a living.”

Even if Magnolia wasn’t wrong, Nora refused to admit it. The night was a night for anonymity, for strangers, for a coming together of people who normally couldn’t stand each other. That was the point of the masks, to get them to celebrate as one without the boundaries and rifts.

If an entire city of people could be anyone they wanted for a night, why not Nora, too?

She reached out and took a bottle of something from a passing waitress, who recognized Nora’s mask and let her have the alcohol.

Nora took one drink, unable to hide the sputter before she stepped back from the woman who had broken her heart. “Just watch me.”

#

Arthur pushed away from the table, ready to leave. He’d done his time, he’d suffered through the dreadful company. Once the woman in the fox mask had disappeared, the music had lost its life. The bar had turned into the same cesspool he’d come to expect from wasteland establishments.

As he shifted backward and turned, a body ran into him. Clumsy, smelling strongly of vodka and covered in shimmering black fabric.

The girl lifted her face to show the fox mask he’d been looking for. Not outright, of course, but each pass his gaze did over the bar, he’d try to catch a glimpse of her.

He’d started to think she’d run off. Perhaps she’d disliked the entire event as much as he did.

Her eyes, the blue bright against the silver of her mask, locked on him. “Thanks, lion.”

Lion?

Ah, yes, his mask.

“Anytime, Fox.”

Her lips quirked up at that. She patted his chest with a clumsy motion that was too hard to be considered entirely friendly before she pulled back.

Arthur’s brain struggled to find any reason for her to stay. His mouth open and words blurted out. “Your voice is lovely. On stage, I mean.” He could have cursed at the inept words that spilled from his lips.

She paused, her head tilting as if trying to figure something out. “I don’t think I know you.”

“How would you be sure? We could be anyone beneath these masks.”

“Anyone, huh?” She took her lip between her teeth, making Arthur hold in a groan. “We could be, right? Anyone we want to be for once.”

“You seem to like that idea. It makes me wonder who you want to be, and who you want not to be.”

Her shoulders lifted in a shrug that held far more than he’d bet she wanted to show. “Maybe I just need a change, to see someone else in the mirror.”

“So you chose a fox? Clever, quick, something to be chased?”

She took a step closer, forcing her to tilt her head to keep their gaze locked. “And you? You pick a lion. Regal, strong, hunters.”

The game pleased Arthur, more so when she seemed to pick up on tiny details, things he wasn’t sure others would have. It seemed to him that she’d picked the correct animal for her alter-ego. “It goes further than that. You wear a dress that reveals skin, but in a tease, and you pull the hem as if not comfortable in the garment. Between that and the scratches on your legs from underbrush, I would guess you work as either a trader or patrol. Not a city-dweller.”

“And you? Speaking clearly, obviously educated, used to giving orders, confident, but not used to taking orders. I would guess a high ranking gunner. If I’m right, I’d suggest you don’t tell me because Hancock has made it clear anyone who kills anyone else tonight will get put in a pillory.”

The thought of the woman in one of the pillories he’d passed on his way in had him pulling in a harsh breath. “What does your girlfriend think about you flirting?”

“Girlfriend?”

“The singer on stage.”

Her smile faltered. “Ah. Magnolia and I are not together.”

“I find that hard to believe with how you interacted.”

The woman grasped the hem of her dress, toying with it as her gaze dropped. “Yeah, she’s pretty good at making it seem that way, isn’t she?”

Ah, a broken heart. Funny that no matter what background people might come from, a broken heart sounded the same in them all.

“Enjoy your night, lion.”

Arthur caught her hand when she pulled back, knowing she wanted to flee. “I’m sorry. We were supposed to be someone else, and here I am reminding you of things you clearly would rather not think of. Forgive me?”

She stared down at his hand, at where it wrapped around her wrist.

“What can I do to make it up to you?”

The woman lifted her gaze again as she twisted her hand to grasp his wrist as well. “Help me be someone else tonight.”

“How?”

She nodded her head back toward the stairs. “I’ve got a room. Come back to it with me?”

For the first time, Arthur found himself glad he’d come.

#

Nora closed the door behind her, sliding the lock in place after the man entered.

This was a foolish choice. The man could be anyone, but here she was, ready to sleep with him.

And she was. It was no time to pretend it was anything else, to play coy. She’d brought him to the motel room she knew Clair kept open for such these occasions when a friend needed a room. She’d slid Nora the key without a word.

Nora could have taken him to the room in the Statehouse, but she’d out herself that way. Not many had a place in the Statehouse, and she had so many personal items there it wouldn’t lead to anonymity, and that’s what she needed. She needed to be someone else. She needed to believe she could have a different life, be a different person. She needed to be someone who didn’t get thrown away, and maybe someone who didn’t care if they were.

The man reached for his mask, but Nora rushed forward and caught his hand. “Don’t.”

“You expect us to leave these on?”

“Please?”

“We’ll look rather foolish.”

“Well, you can look foolish wearing it while you have sex, or you can take it off and look respectable while you sleep alone.”

He caught her behind the neck, his hands rough and large compared to Magnolia’s.

She came forward as he pulled gently until her chest brushed his.

His thumb rubbed against her skin. “You’re sure? You do not strike me as a woman who does this much.”

But she was sure. Even more so when he asked. She wanted to wipe away Magnolia’s lipstick from her. She wanted to prove to someone, to anyone, to herself that she didn’t need Magnolia. That she still could find something for herself, that she didn’t have to cling to a person who didn’t want her.

Instead of saying that, Nora tilted her head and rose to her toes. The edges of their masks clicked against each other, and she pressed her lips to his.

The vodka she’d drank made it challenging to work out the taste of the man’s lips, but she was reasonably sure it was beer. Not a surprise, he didn’t strike her as the sort of man who would allow himself to get drunk out in public. No, he watched his surroundings too carefully, carried himself in such a way it was clear he had training.

Nora would still bet on a gunner, but she was choosing to ignore the high probability of it. She wasn’t planning a future with him, and even after their night, she’d never recognize him if they faced each other in a fight one day.  

He broke the kiss first and grasped her arm to twist her. His fingers gripped the zipper at her back and pulled it down until the material of her dress slid off her shoulders. He let it fall, the dress ending in a pile on the floor around her feet. “Lovely.”

Nora went to turn, but a hand on her shoulder kept her still. He ran his fingers down her spine, following each vertebra until he reached the edge of her underwear. A soft tug to move them over her hips and they joined the dress, leaving her naked.

His lips brushed her neck, though the edge of the mask would press against her skin as he peppered light kissed to her shoulder. His hands slid around her ribs, coming to rest below the bottom swell of her breasts.

The slow was nice but too intimate. It reminded her of the sweet nights with Magnolia, the gentle breath of her on Nora’s throat.

So Nora pulled back and twisted to face him, her hands working the buttons loose as soon as she could reach them. She stripped him of his shirt in a rush, his chest a marvel. Old scars sat on the skin, poised above muscles earned from years of war. Thick hair rested on his chest, a thin line following down to disappear beneath the waist of his pants.

The invitation was too good, and Nora flicked open the button of his pants.

“In a hurry?” She could hear the laughter in his voice even when the mask made it difficult to read him.

“I may not have many one night stands, but I’m pretty sure you have. They aren’t sweet kisses and romance, lion.” She pushed down at the waist of his pants, a sharp breath to say she hadn’t expected him to lack underwear, and also to remind herself that it had been a while since she’d been with a man, and he might prove a challenge to even a well-accustomed woman.

“So what do you want, fox?” He kicked off his shoes to step out of the pants, leaving him as naked as her, their bodies exposed but their faces and their pasts shielded.

Nora took a deep breath before grasped his shoulders and hopping to wrap her legs around his weight. “You. Now.”

#

Arthur didn’t bother to try and hide his either his groan or his erection when he grasped her ass to hold the woman to him. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know how much he wanted this. What was the use in playing games?

This was one night. One night where he had the chance to enjoy something with someone else without all the background of his life. He didn't have to worry about what the other Elder’s might think, what his men might think, what future they could have. Instead, he got to just be a man who wanted to spend an evening with a woman.

He twisted before setting her on the bed, following her down. Her legs stayed spread around his hips, which meant when his weight settled onto her, when her leg tightener around his him, his cock ground against her.

He didn’t have to worry about breaking first, not when the woman moaned, her nails biting into his shoulders.

Arthur swallowed her moan when he took her lips in a deep kiss, ignoring the way their masks struck each other with each advance and retreat.

He braced his weight on one elbow to free his other hand. He dragged it down her body, trailing it over her side where her waist dipped in, then to her hip. He offered one squeeze to her hip before he shifted that hand between her thighs.

Heat and wetness met him when he found her cunt, and when he stroked against her, she stopped the kiss to pull in a shaky breath.

Ah, that was the sound of a woman who needed that sort of touch. So it seemed it had been a while since she’d been with Magnolia, at least. He ignored the slight jealousy of that, of the way she’d stared at the other woman, that want.

Magnolia was a fool.

Arthur stroked her clit with gentle touches as he gauged her reaction, what worked, what didn’t. She flinched when he went too hard, telling him she needed a softer touch. He gathered her own slick on his fingers to brush them across her clit until her hips lifted in desperate pleas.

He broke the kiss and moved down until he could capture a nipple between his lips. He flicked it with his tongue before sucking at her. He released it to latch his lips on the bottom curve of her breast and sucked hard.

The woman arched up into the aggressive touch, but she clutched him tighter so he didn’t let up, not until he was sure she’d wear a small bruise from him.

She might not know who he was, and they’d never see each other again, but that mark would sit for days on her skin as proof that it had happened.

She shoved his shoulder when he let go, and he allowed her to push him to his back. “You’re into marking your conquests?” Her smile took the censure from her words.

Arthur reached up to slide his fingers over the already reddening mark on her breast. “I like that it will still be there tomorrow. I like that you’ll see it and think about this.”

“For a man who wants to keep this all anonymous, that’s a surprising kink.” She reached down and wrapped her hand around his cock, her thumb ghosting over the tip.

Arthur bucked into her fist. There was nothing that could have kept him from doing it, not from the warmth of her hand. “I’m not someone used to being forgotten.”

She dropped her gaze down to where she stroked him with slow, teasing motions. “I can see why.”

Damn, Arthur liked that. He liked that she didn’t shy away from this, that she didn’t try to act like she was above it. He loved seeing the lust in her eyes, seeing the way her tongue wet her lips, the subtle shifting of her hips like she missed the friction on her clit. He’d slept with enough women who felt the need to play that game that said they weren’t interested. He’d slept with too many who hid their reactions, who would pretend they didn’t enjoy any of it.

Not his fox. Even in moments of shyness, the open want on what little he could see of her face, the honest moans and movements of her body, they all drew him in.

She went up to her knees, one hand still grasped around his cock, the other flat on his chest as she positioned his cock against her.

Arthur moved his hands to her hips, thumbs pressing against the point of her hipbones. Her body above his reaffirmed she wasn’t a city woman. Too much muscle, too many scars. Not that he faulted her any of it. No, he enjoyed each feature, the proof of a real woman who lived a real life. They tempted him to trace the raised ridges of the muscles in her thighs with his tongue, to kiss over the light scars.

She whined softly as she lowered herself, as he sunk into her cunt. The movement was slow, repetitive where she would lower then raise, tiny shifts until she’d taken him all.

When their bodies pressed against each other’s, she stilled. The skin on her neck and chest flushed, her breathing faster.

“You okay?”

She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze, lips tipping into a smile. “It’s been a while since I’ve done this, with a man at least.”

The way she said it, that same honesty, it had him pressing a hand behind him against the mattress to rise up and steal another kiss. For a moment he could close his eyes and pretend this was real. It wasn’t a one night stand. It wasn’t a game. It was something with a real future, something with promise and potential.

She gripped the back of his neck, nails digging in as she returned his kiss. Her tongue pressed past his lips when he opened for her, her hips lifting in shallow moves. He kept one hand behind him before dipping the other between them. He stroked her clit, his fingers brushing where her cunt stretched around his cock as she rode him. The feeling of how he slid into her, the physical place where they joined, it drew his fingers.

Her moans and breathy whines slipped past his lips as he kissed her, as he chased each sound she made with his fingers.

Her hips lifted higher, pressing against him harder like she couldn’t get enough, like it was never enough. She twisted, rolling her hips above him, her thighs tight against his hips.

They moved together, a strange sense of sync he’d never experienced before. Everything beyond him and her dissolved beneath the clutching of their hands.

His obligations turned to dust, his legacy drifted away. He lived only in that moment, in the squeeze of her cunt around him, in the taste of the vodka still on her tongue, in the brush of her breasts against his arm as she moved.

Her thighs trembled to tell him she was close. He offered no mercy as he stroked her clit, bringing her closer to her release.

Her head fell back, her spine straightening then arching. He brought his hand from the mattress to set at the small of her back and help her keep her balance as her cunt tightened down around him in hard waves. That flush brightened on her chest, the cords in her neck standing out, her nails in his shoulders.

He shifted the touch on her clit, letting her hood fall back into place to lighten it, to draw out her orgasm, to make it last as long as possible. Each squeeze of her cunt on him had his teeth gritting to hold off. He damn well wouldn’t come yet, not before he got to enjoy her better.

She leaned forward, a loud clink when the masks hit each other as she rested against him. She released a soft chuckle against his lips.

#

Nora should move off him. While she didn’t have many one night stands, she was pretty sure cuddling wasn’t part of them. That was too close, too risky. She didn’t need another Magnolia, another heartbreak.

So despite how much she wanted to stay, Nora pulled back.

The man tilted his head. “Do you want to stop?”

Even though she’d come, even though she’d scratched her itch, the way his cock jerked inside her said she didn’t want to stop. No, she wanted him to spill inside her, wanted to hear the sounds he made when he lost that composure of his. “No. I just figured it was your turn to do some of the work.”

His lips tipped up before he wrapped an arm around the small of her back and turned them until he was once again on top. His muscles shifted as he moved them, and she was reminded how much stronger than she he was.

Instead of the idea frightening her, it turned her on. She basked in that strength as he braced his weight above her only to set a harder pace than she had.

Where she had teased with short and languid motions, he took in long, deep thrusts. He didn’t thrust fast but instead seemed to relish in the strength of each thrust.

Nora’s back arched into him, her breasts pressed against his chest. The way he moved, sure and slow like he had all the time in the world, it clouded her head. Her body was sensitive from her orgasm, making each brush of her nipples against his chest, each stroke of his cock against her walls so much stronger than it would have been otherwise.

Her leg came up to wrap around his hip, clutching him to her. It kept him from withdrawing far, but if he cared, he didn’t show it.

His hand wrapped around the neck of her neck to steal another kiss, this one deep and full of something she was afraid of looking too closely at.

He came after a few more thrusts, the jerk of his cock inside her and the groan he fed past her lips almost as good as the touch of his fingers had been.

He didn’t pull out at first, content to rock his hips forward every now and then as he kissed her until he went soft enough that he slid from her body. His lips and his kisses filled her, and even as she screamed that she should end it, she devoured them. She let them warm her, let them lie to her and tell her of a future she knew they didn’t have.

They didn’t speak, choosing to lie beside each other in the dark instead. His fingers trailed her hip while hers toyed with the hair on his lower stomach. The music still thrummed through the walls, the occasional shout of people saying the party hadn’t stopped. It wouldn’t stop, not until at least mid-day tomorrow.

John would consider it a failure if it didn’t go at least twenty-four hours.

Eventually, those soft touches lulled them both to sleep, that light sleep where you aren’t even sure you fell asleep at all.

Light peeked in the window hours later when Nora woke, her head aching from the vodka and the late night.

Her lion snored, causing her to smile and roll, hoping to convince him of one more go. A goodbye they could both use, a few more minutes of pleasure before heading back into the unforgiving wasteland.

Except when she rolled, she found his mask askew. Not much, not enough to see his entire face, but enough to see some of it.

Enough to see the scar that ran over his cheek, the youthful face she knew and avoided.

Her lion was Arthur Maxson.

#

Arthur ground the heels of his hands into his eyes as if that could ease the throbbing of his temples. He’d always heard the young could drink and feel no pain, yet he’d hardly drank, and he was in agony.

He could have asked Cade for something to dull the pain, but he didn’t have any desire to admit he’d drank, stayed up too late, and slept with some stranger in a mask.

And that stranger, his fox, he hadn’t been able to forget her.

He’d reached for her when he’d risen, only to find the bed empty and cold. The disappointment had hit him hard, surprising him. He’d had to admit that he’d hoped to still convince her to tell him who she was.

Whoever it was, they could have worked something out. She wasn’t a raider, not a gunner, too sweet for either of those. Whatever else she could have been, they could have figured out a way to make it work.

But since she’d run from him, he had no chance. He had nothing to go on. He’d asked a few people in town if they’d known anything about the girl in the fox mask, but none had given him an answer. The mayor had grinned, called him brother, and made a joke about a fox hunt.

“Elder?” Paladin Danse drew him from his thoughts.

“Yes?”

“I have Knight Jacobs here, as requested.”

Right. He couldn’t waste his time thinking about some faceless woman. He’d called Jacobs aboard when he’d seen Danse at the tail end of the party since he was tired of her avoiding him.

He ran the East Coast chapter of the Brotherhood, and he’d be damned if one of his own men treated him like a bad date one couldn’t escape fast enough.  "Very good. Send her in, please. You may return to the police station. When she’s finished here, she’ll join you there.”

Danse nodded before stepping out.

Arthur turned his back to the doorway, looking out over the water, over the Commonwealth. He’d not traveled extensively in the life he could remember, and the Commonwealth felt like foreign soil to him. It wasn’t his home, but he’d accepted it might have to become so. He needed this win, this place, and he’d have it no matter the cost.

“Elder?” The hesitant tone sounded nothing like the Knight he’d grown used to, lacking the edge of annoyance. 

Arthur turned back to face Jacobs.

She stood in that vault suit she wore so often, her hair pulled back and braided to keep her face clear. Had her eyes always been that color? A red flush on her face seemed familiar, but he couldn’t place it. The bloodshot eyes said she’d stayed up too late as well.

“I am curious as to why you have been avoiding me.”

“Excuse me?”

He folded his hands behind his back. “You seem to spend a great deal of time with many of my men, but you hardly ever report to me directly. In fact, it seems you go out of your way to have little to no contact with me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

But she did. Her voice said it, her defensive posturing as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“I am not unreasonable. If I’ve done something to upset you, I expect you to complain directly to me and then get over it. The Brotherhood has a chain of command and a certain level of tradition. I like to know my men personally.”

She released a soft cough at that, the red on her cheeks growing stronger. What the hell?

He pressed on. “I am tired of knowing nothing about you. You do work for us, give us intel and advantage, yet I could hardly pick you out of a crowded room if I had to.”

And there went that flush, down her neck. He’d guess her entire chest was bright red by then.

Arthur shook his head. Perhaps this was why he’d never dealt with her before? Because she was clearly insane. “What is your problem, knight?”

She jerked her gaze to his face for the first time, and though she smoothed out her expression, nothing could hide the blush. “Nothing, Elder.”

“Paladin Danse is constantly singing your praises in his reports, talking of your keen instincts, your ability to read an opponent. I can’t imagine if you behaved this way with him, he would ever do such a thing, so is it personal?”

“I said, it’s nothing. I will report in more often if that’s what you want.” Her hands slid against the front of her thighs like she needed to wipe sweat away.

Was she nervous? Attracted? He had no idea and found he didn’t care for it.

Spys were a problem in any faction, and while he hated to have to consider it, what if she wasn’t really working for them?

He knew she’d had contact with The Institute and the Railroad, as well as the well-known association with the Minutemen. Any of those groups would want The Brotherhood out of the way. Could she be avoiding him because she intended to betray them? Wouldn’t Danse pick up on such a thing?

She was pretty, however, and Danse was a flesh and blood man at the end of the day. Perhaps she fooled the rest but feared she could not fool him?

“Very well. Before you leave, however, I would like you to see Cade for a medical check. You’ve been gone too long without one, and I don’t plan to lose our newest knight due to an illness or injury.”

Her lips pressed together, but she offered a short nod, her fingers wrapped around the pack on her shoulder.

She might not want to tell him her secrets, but he was damned well going to figure them out.

#

Nora cursed as she zipped her vault suit up and secured the latch at the throat. She should have told Danse to go to hell when he’d said she needed to see Arthur.

Even the Elder’s name had her blushing, and he’d known it. He’d shown no sign of recognition, Nora’s only saving grace. He’d stared at her like she’d lost her mind, yet every word he’d spoken had only reminded her of the night before.

When Danse had told her, she’d feared Arthur had realized who she was. He’d never called her in before, not after their first quick meeting. She’d avoided him because he’d seemed young, arrogant, and reminded her too much of her late husband. It was someone she’d have preferred to keep her distance from, a choice reinforced by her having fallen into bed with him at the first chance.

And Cade’s prodding had only served to worsen her mood. She wished John had come with her if for no reason than to make the doctor uncomfortable. She liked Cade when he wasn’t asking her invasive questions or doing a full catalog of scars and injuries.

Even after that headache, it seemed life wasn’t quite finished punishing her for casual sex. Arthur had asked she stop by once more before leaving.

She needed only to hold together her composure for a short while longer, offer some ass-kissing, and she’d be home free.

The metal of the door made her knuckles ache when she knocked, but his quick response said he’d been waiting.

She came in to find him seated in a chair, another in front of him.

Arthur nodded at the opposite chair. “Close the door and sit, please.”

“The vertibird is waiting, Elder. Perhaps-”

His eyebrow cocked up, silencing her.

Right, don’t argue with the Elder. Nora sighed and did as he asked, dragging her feet until she could sit. Their knees were only about a foot away, so close she could reach out and touch him-

She cranked her hands into fists to change her thoughts, then let her pack fall to the floor beside the chair.

“I was worried you were a spy.”

Her eyes widened at the accusation. “What? After everything I’ve done-”

He held up his hand to stop her tirade. “When you avoided me, when you seemed to wish little contact with no explanation, I worried about your allegiances.”

“Well if you’re here expecting some sort of proof of my loyalty, you can forget it. We both know I can work with anyone, so if you want to accuse me of some something like this…” Her voice trailed off, unwilling to make an ultimatum. Working with the Brotherhood was her best chance, and she didn’t want to ruin it if she could salvage this, but her temper slipped at the idea of being called a liar.

“I said I had worried. I am no longer worried.”

“What? Did you decide to think it through and realize it made no sense?”

He reached into his coat. “Not exactly. I did a little recon of my own and realized there was another explanation of your odd behavior.” He pulled out an item and tossed it into her lap. “Hello, Fox.”

Nora stared down at her mask from the night before.

He knew.

#

Arthur wasn’t sure what he expected. Then again, he hadn’t expected any of this. When he decided to order the physical as a chance to check Jacobs’ belongings for any sign of disloyalty, the mask had shocked him.

Why had she even brought it? Had she known it was him all along?

And she knew it was him. It was in the way she’d blushed, the way he realized his words held double meanings when applied to the previous night. Suddenly her reactions made sense.

And that was why he doubted she’d known it was him beforehand. She’d been too confident the night they’d spent together. The women who blushed like she did couldn’t have seduced him like that if she’d known who he was.

But, clearly she’d fooled him before, so he took nothing for granted.

“You searched my things?”

“You left me no choice. It seems I had good reason to, given the secrets you kept.”

She picked up the mask, her fingers stroking over the edges in a touch far too intimate. “I didn't know it was you, not until the next morning. Your mask shifted at night, and I recognized you.”

“So instead of waking me, you ran?”

“Of course, I did. That whole thing was just one night for fun. If you knew who I was, it could have been complicated. I don’t need complications.”

Arthur sat back in his chair to study her, to try to read her. She wasn’t wrong; it did make things more complicated. He’d always shied away from romantic entanglements within the ranks, but it wasn’t frowned on. Most Brotherhood soldiers had to pair off within the Brotherhood since they traveled so much. Having a civilian spouse could end up with couples separated for long periods of time, so they often stayed in the Brotherhood.

His lips tipped down as he realized he was considering what a future might mean between them. Did that mean he was interested in one? “What does this mean? Are you kicking me out?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “No. I wouldn’t remove you from the Brotherhood because of a one night stand. You’ve more than proven your worth and earned your place here.”

“So what is this? What do you want from me?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? “The smart choice would be for us to agree to never speak of what happened again. It would save face for you, preventing anyone from thinking you might be working your way up the ranks the hard way. As for me, it would keep any from thinking I was willing to hand out special favors in exchange for sex.”

“You called it a smart choice. That means it’s not the only choice.”

Arthur lifted one leg to set his ankle on the opposite knee. “Indeed. The other choice would be that we could try whatever this is again. See if last night was a drunken fluke or potentially something more.”

“That wouldn’t be smart.”

“No, not at all.”

“We should just forget about everything.” Even as she spoke, she leaned forward, toward him like drawn and unable to resist.

“We should. We both have complicated lives that don’t need any more problems.”

“And this would be a problem.”

“Most likely.”

She set the mask down before reaching out, her fingers dancing along his knee in a touch so light, he hardly felt it. “And what choice do you want to make?”

“I’ve always been a man to pick the smart choice, to pick the one expected of me.”

“But right now?”

“Right now I feel like being foolish.” He caught her hand but didn’t pull. No, it had to be her choice. Especially now, with their identities known, he couldn’t risk pushing her into anything she wasn’t sure about. “What about you, fox? Do you want to be foolish with me?”

She went still, so still, he wasn’t sure she breathed. Her lips tipped up, a smile that reminded him of the night before, that reminded him of the woman she’d been when she didn’t have to whoever she was on the Prydwen. “No one would ever claim I was smart,” she said before coming forward and climbing into his lap.

Arthur dropped his foot to make room for her, his fingers already at the neck of her vault suit. He returned her kiss, tilting his head to give her room to work free the zipper of his jumpsuit as well.

He undid the zipper, regretting each terrible thing he’d thought about her vault suit. How had he ever thought she shouldn’t wear it? In fact, he doubted he’d ever be able to concentrate seeing her in it again. He’d only see the way the fabric parted to reveal her breasts, the way her shoulders appeared as he peeled the blue down her arms.

“This is twice you’ve gotten me naked on the Prydwen in the last half-an-hour.”

“But the first time I didn’t get to see it.”

“It’s great to be king, hmm?” She maneuvered her shoes off, then stood to strip the vault suit off.

Arthur rose as well, remove the rest of his clothes. It left them naked, but this time without the masks. He couldn’t help it as his hand reached out, as he allowed his fingers to drift over her breast, to enjoy in a way he hadn’t been able to before.

He’d waited too long, spent too long sure he’d never feel this sort of connection. His patience had run out.

Arthur grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close. He twisted them and set her ass on the table, the bed too far away. His fingers found her clit, the action easy, like muscle memory.

Her thighs parted wider for him, the surrender doing more for him than anything else could have. His fingers slid against her clit as she grew wet, and when her hips gave that first subtle rock forward, a silent plea, he pulled her ass toward the edge of the table.

The slide into her was smooth, and she moaned against his throat, lips against his pulse. Her leg twisted around him until her heel pressed into his ass, her hands on his lower back.

Arthur took her hard, faster than the night before, unwilling to waste a second of something he didn’t think he’d have. He grasped her hip, his other hand behind her neck so he could pull her back for another kiss.

He didn’t think, didn’t plan, didn’t work toward anything. The rhythm he set drown them both, and soon only the scrape of the table feet against the floor and their panting breaths filled the room. He came, though how long later it was, he wasn’t sure. The writhing of her body against his stole away time, but once again, he found himself reluctant to pull out, to pull away.

Their lips went still, but he kept his forehead against hers.

“I should go,” she whispered, lips brushing his.

“Why?”

“I’ve made enough bad choices for one day, haven’t I?”

“Make one more. Stay the night here.”

She didn’t answer right away, and Arthur found for the first time, her answer mattered. He’d let her go of course, but damn, he wanted her to stay.

It might not go beyond tomorrow, might not last beyond the light of a real day, of time around others, but damn he wanted the chance, at least.

She pulled back enough to look at him, those lips of hers pulling into a smile. "Will you wear the mask?"

"If that's what it takes you to stay, fox, then sure. I'll wear whatever you want."

She ran her hand down his chest in a blatant tease. "Okay, lion, take me to bed. We can make a few more bad choices before tomorrow."

  
  
  



End file.
